


maybe you still think of us

by pandettia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, My First Smut, Oneshot, Pork soda, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandettia/pseuds/pandettia
Summary: Sometimes it's hard to control your emotions. Luckily, there are ways to express how you feel.Prompted by Pork Soda by Glass Animals.





	maybe you still think of us

It had been a long, exhausting day for the group. Hawke was on edge, and despite the way he had held Anders after finding him on the Wounded Coast, he now prowled ahead of the rest alone. Clearly not wanting to be spoken to, Varric turned his attention to Anders who seemed to have resumed the constant glumness and angst that resided on his face and in his general aura. Nobody ever seemed just happy anymore. 

“So, the night commander boiling in oil?” Varric tried, willing Anders to at least try to smile. It was a foolish train of thought really, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he could break Anders free from Justice then they could laugh it off. “That one never gets old.”

“This is past the time for joking.” Having been kidnapped by mage sympathisers in a misguided attempt at gathering more support did nothing to make Anders happier, it seemed.

“I’m helping you indulge in elaborate revenge fantasies. I think it’s good for you.”

“Meredith will die. Do not doubt that.” And there was that little voice behind his usual tone. The mean one that took everything seriously. 

Ahead, Hawke clenched his fist into a ball, knuckles whitening.

“Go away, Justice. Can’t Anders come out to play?”

“ **Stop.** ”

“You are no fun anymore.” Varric muttered under his breath. Gesturing for Isabela to follow, they made their way to the Hanged Man, leaving Hawke and Anders to themselves.

Hawke turned around to face Anders once he knew they were gone and he did not look pleased. Then again, he rarely did these days.

“That,” he began as he slowly started to walk toward Anders, “is what I have talked to you about. You tell me it’s alright, but I’m not stupid and I’m certainly not blind to you flashing blue.”

“I warned you about this, Hawke! I-“ Anders retaliated, the deep echo becoming more apparent with each word. Justice had had enough of this, it seemed. Anders tried his best to prevent it, but blue veins glowed beneath his pale skin and soon his eyes were filled with nothing but the glowing blue.

“ **Hawk-** “ Justice began, before being interrupted.

“I won’t speak to Justice. It wasn’t Justice who took me to the cliffs on the Wounded Coast when we were running from those Templars and it wasn’t Justice who pushed me off of that cliff edge into the water.” He growled, the aggressive nature that at first seemed so foreign taking its roots and growing evermore. “But it’s ‘Justice’ what nearly killed that girl in the caves. ‘Justice’ who plants doubt in every action that isn’t directly related to mages - and I would bet that maybe Justice has something to do with when you tried to manipulate me. Or was that all your own doing, Anders? Are you just hiding behind Justice so you don’t have to face the repercussions for your actions?” As he continued ranting, his voice grew louder and by the end he might as well have spat on his feet. 

Still fighting for control, Anders tried to reach out to Hawke, but he had pulled away. 

Hawke faltered. After everything he still couldn’t deny his weakness for him, and it drove him insane. He knew it was a bad idea but he still couldn’t tear himself away, he still thought that maybe there was something he could do to help. But it was clear he didn’t want help. He didn’t think he needed it. 

Defeated and disappointed, Hawke recoiled from Anders’ struggling form and sighed. He shook his head and started to walk away into the night, but stopped for a second.

“Just… don’t follow me.” 

——————————————————-

Pacing in front of his bed, Hawke scrunched his hair in his hands, agitated. Along with his deep breaths came flashes of the times they’d spent together, the moments of comfort he’d come to hold so dearly, the way he felt when they’d finally kissed, the flirtatious teasing - to watch the man he loved so dearly slip away was killing him. He hated watching how a force for good had slowly corrupted him. How scared he’d become of himself.

Suddenly, Hawke couldn’t bear to be apart from Anders for a second longer. He needed to let him know he didn’t mean to hurt him, he just needed to let him know that it wasn’t okay anymore. It wasn’t fucking okay and he wasn’t in control. 

Grabbing a dark cloak and slipping it on as he power walked to the door, he didn’t even acknowledge Bodahn’s concern on the way out. His strut was followed by a dark energy, an animalistic power overwhelming him and leaking out into the air around him. No gang members dare jump out at him as he stalked the streets, not tonight. Wasting no time he headed to the place he knew Anders would be drowning his sorrows. All he could hear was his thunderous heartbeat washing over the voice in his head screaming ‘turn back’.

The door swung open almost by command as he entered the Hanged Man, the locals knowing better than to raise their glasses to his arrival as per usual. Tonight there was a different ambience to him, and no man could’ve stopped him as the regulars parted to give way.

As soon as he entered the back room, he could see Anders look up, dark circles around his eyes as he stopped nursing his tankard. Varric was in the midst of telling a story when Hawke stormed in and moodily moved around the table, pulling down his hood in the process. He yanked Anders up by his shirt and pinned the golden haired man to the wall, pushing against his chest. Ignoring Isabela’s gasp in the background, he stayed there and held Anders as he resisted for a moment.

“That night after we came back from Chateau Haine,” Hawke muttered to him, pressing a little softer. “That night when we got so drunk - we drank that brandy you liked - and I asked you why we couldn’t stay like this -” He began rambling, his deep voice wavering as his forearm sank into his chest rather than his hand, allowing Anders more room to breathe.

“Love, I to-” Anders began whispering back, but Hawke stopped him.

“And I looked into your eyes and I thought I saw that maybe you still thought of us, still had time to think of both your damn cause and me - your legs were wrapped around me, we were collapsed in front of the fire, the sofa that Dog went and chewed up but we didn’t care because it wasn’t completely broken.”

Anders tensed body began to relax a little as his neck was tickled by Hawke’s breath as he spoke to him privately despite their spectators. He could feel Hawke get closer, and slowly Anders let his hands begin to wrap around him as he continued.

“Then you gave me that look - the one where I get that feeling, the one where I don’t give a shit about anything but you and I know…” Hawke looked down for a moment, then stared fiercely into his eyes. “I want you all the time.”

Anders started to pull him closer but had his breath stolen as Hawke’s actions described his urgency and intense emotion in a way no words ever could. Hand on his cheek, Hawke’s fingers traced his jaw and pulled him in as Anders held onto his back, moving to let Hawke’s arm that previously pinned him dig into his own back, nails scratching under his clothes as they kissed. He dug his hand into Anders’ flesh, wanting to hold on and never lose him - to stabilise his ever dizzying loss of sanity. Pushing back into his captor, Anders held his lover just as tightly - a tiny gap to catch his breath came out as a low moan and their earlier anger became the fuel for passion. 

Isabela and Varric could only watch with mouths agape as Hawke once again seized Anders and this time hauled him out through the back door, a long lost grin joining Anders once again.

Bodahn had made himself scarce by the time they got back to the estate. Their surroundings blurred as Hawke strode through the entry hall and up the stairs to the master bedroom. Slamming the door shut, he all but threw Anders onto the sturdy four poster bed, throwing the cloak onto the floor in reckless abandon as he straddled the other. 

“Why is it,” he growled between kisses, “that I only ever see you pleased when we’re in bed?”

Hands began to wander as more skin was revealed, clothing being forgotten quickly and dumped onto the floor. Their breathing became more laborious as they felt each others bodies - Anders felt as Hawke’s muscular physique moved to pull them onto the bed properly, and Hawke noticing his partners thinner figure allowing bones to poke through. Not wanting to worry, Hawke dragged him closer and bit into the flesh above his collarbone enough so cause Anders to call out. As his hands ran down his back, he noticed the inflammation from the way he clawed him earlier starting to go down and began once again marking his body as his own.

“Why is it,” he started again, the frustration in his tone showing more this time, “I see you and it now causes me pain?”

Their bodies radiated heat and Hawke became more impatient. Grabbing where he had just bitten, he flipped Anders over onto his stomach and pushed him down into the bed, hot breaths on the nape of his neck as their skin shone in the dim candlelight. Anders looked up as him from the side and nodded very slightly and Hawke held him down as his spare hand went down and began to tease him open, gently sliding in. Anders gasped uncontrollably, and his back arched against Hawke. As Hawke’s movements began more rapid, Anders buried his face into the bedding and Hawke could hear him moan at his touch. His body began to jerk against Hawke’s grip but he was held down firmly as he was prepared for something more.

Hawke gave no warning when the tip of his dick entered the gap created by his fingers and Anders whined, toes curling. His hands bunched the sheets beneath him into tight balls, barely acknowledging as the pressure Hawke was exerting on his body increased. When Hawke began to thrust, Anders let out a choked sound, finding himself gasping for each breath of air desperately. As skin slapped against skin, Hawke began to grunt as he tensed and untensed, pure unadulterated pleasure pulsing through him. Anders was shaking at his touch, the energy reverberating through his body, the thoughts of Justice far from his mind. It was the only time he was distracted enough to put him to the back of his mind in recent memory.

Noticing how Anders had become weak, Hawke grabbed onto his body harder and straightened himself slightly to get into a better position, thrusting faster and panting as each push became less precise, more impulsive. Anders’ face was now firmly buried in the bed but it did little to mask the sounds he cried.

Hawke had both his hands just under Anders’ shoulder blades, using his body as a handle as his own body sunk. The climax left Hawke weak himself, hips stuck in a motion he could not stop until he came.

“Your turn,” he stated simply, but Anders knew what it meant and he could scream with relief as every muscle in his body seemed to tense and relax, and the two collapsed into each other, Hawke nuzzling the back of Anders’ neck. “You’re a fucking psycho, you know that?”

“...And?”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at smut, be gentle <3


End file.
